Free Truth-Stained Lies by Terri Blackstock

been that desperate? He still might have won the custody battle. Holly rinsed her mouth, grabbed her purse, and stumbled out of the bathroom to show the email to Juliet. The doorbell stopped her.
    No one else was in the house, so she went to the front door, looked out the peephole. Annalee’s brother and mother stood there, both of them looking distraught. Tears sprang to Holly’s eyes again as she opened the door.
    “Warren,” she said. “Mrs. Haughton, come in.”
    Annalee’s mother leaned on her walker as if she could barely stand. Cancer had weakened her body, so that she was almost an invalid. Holly could only imagine what she was dealing with since she’d found out about her daughter’s death. She hugged her, but the woman was stiff, unresponsive. “Mrs. Haughton, I’m so sorry about Annalee. We’re all so upset.”
    “I just want to see my grandson,” she muttered, her voice phlegmy. “Where is he?”
    “He’s outside swimming. Juliet hasn’t told him. Jay wanted to tell Jackson himself.”
    As they stepped into the foyer, Holly looked up at Warren, Annalee’s brother. He looked shaken, distracted as always. He had asked Holly out a dozen times, but she’d never been attracted to him. He wasn’t bad looking, but he had as much trouble as she had holding a job.
    Her friends would label him the man of her dreams, since she was usually drawn to losers. Thankfully, she wasn’t drawn to him.
    Now, the hollow look in his eyes told her he was hurting, so she gave him a hug. “Warren, are you okay?”
    He ignored the question. “What are they saying about Jay? Do they think he’s the one who did this?”
    “No, no, they’re just questioning him,” she said. “He’s the one who found her.”
    “What … what did he say?” Annalee’s mother asked. “About her … being in the bathroom?”
    “I haven’t been able to talk to him privately,” Holly said. “Cathy’s with him at the police station. He’s coming straight here when they let him go. Please, come sit down.”
    Mrs. Haughton made her way to the couch in the den, dropped down, and looked out the large picture window toward her grandson, splashing in the pool without a care in the world. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her skin lax and drooping. She breathed hard, her shoulders rising and falling with the effort. Pain — probably emotional as well as physical — etched deep, craggy lines into her face.
    “We’ll take him now,” Warren said, peering out the window.
    Holly gasped. “Jackson? No, you can’t! He’s fine. We’ve fed him, and Jay wanted us to put him to bed. When he gets home, he can decide when Jackson needs to be told.”
    “We don’t want him with Jay,” Warren bit out.
    Holly realized where this was going, and she stood straighter, lifted her chin. “My brother did not hurt his wife, and he’s never hurt his son, despite what Annalee claimed.”
    “He found her,” Warren said. “He hasn’t been over there in a year except to pick up Jackson. You think it’s a coincidence that he just happened to walk in right after somebody murdered her?”
    Holly thought of the email she’d just read. She still hadthe phone in her hand. She slipped it into her pocket. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why it happened. All I know is that Jackson is better off staying here. Mrs. Haughton, I know you don’t feel well, and you’re probably in shock. It’s not a good time for you to be babysitting.”
    Mrs. Haughton shook her head weakly, as if she had nothing to say to that.
    But Warren wasn’t giving up. “We can take care of him.”
    “It’s not a good idea,” Holly said more emphatically. “I think his father is the best judge of what’s best for him.”
    “His father could be a murderer.” Warren started to the back door. “I’m going to see my nephew.”
    Holly blocked his way. “You’re not going out there, Warren.”
    Warren stared at her, and for a moment she thought he might press the